


Worship Me

by Umaasa (crAIne)



Series: KuroKura AUs [2]
Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angel!Kurapika, Author Is Sleep Deprived, Bad Writing, Fantasizing, Kuroro being a clown going back and forth between Holy and unholy, M/M, Masturbation, Morally Grey, Out of Character, Priest!Chrollo, Public Masturbation, Religious Guilt, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, The Author Regrets Everything, how many times do you want Kuroro to simp over him?, how many times do you want to mention how kurapika is beautiful?, sacrilegious, y e s, yes - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-21
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:47:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26806846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crAIne/pseuds/Umaasa
Summary: In search of Faith, Kuroro Lucilfer invites an Angel into his life which ignites his belief. However he starts to doubt whether or not he truly met an envoy of God, or an infernal prophet.(Alt, athiest Priest Kuroro Lucilfer falls for Angel Kurapika)
Relationships: Kuroro Lucifer | Chrollo Lucifer/Kurapika
Series: KuroKura AUs [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1980625
Comments: 20
Kudos: 120





	1. Pride of Life

**Author's Note:**

> Longer version of Divine, with bad writing and questionable morals.

"And whatever you ask in you will receive, if you have faith." Matthew 21:22

Faith—What was he to do with faith he wondered. Kuroro Lucilfer was a devote man, a man of God who worshipped him and became the instrument to spread his words. His eloquence and charisma swayed many to the church and made them believe in a life of faith. 

How ironic that was.

A servant of God he may be—but he was not his true master. Kuroro Lucilfer had no Master. He was groomed for this position, ever since they picked him up from that God forsaken place—the priests had taken him up to become one of them. Despite the ominious sign the cross on his forehead imposed—They instructed him to cover his mark with a cloth and masterfully taught him God’s word every day and every night. He had disregarded them at first, but quickly learned that rebelling against them was fruitless—for it brought him to advantage in surviving this game God above created. So like a subservient lamb, he greedily ate the lessons that they force fed him, and soon he got more privileges. He was no longer placed in a small prison-like room—now he was given a more spacious room that looked more livable and not just decent. His meals were slowly but surely becoming more filling. The priests were keen to believe in their achievement—"He’s becoming a dashing young lad isn’t he!" "Can you believe his transformation? God is truly kind!" "My what faith the boy has!"

With these words, Kuroro would only smile and say "God is good, all the time." Masking his faithlessness with a look of pure devotion. The word of God may be branded into his mind like a prayer made to last but he was like that of the Parable of the sower—seeds that have fallen upon the path shall not grow and instead be eaten. Seeds that have fallen on rocky soil shall grow yet weakly. Seeds that have fallen on thorns shall suffocate and die. Seeds that have fallen on good soul shall flourish and stay alive.

May those priest and their God believe he lay on Good soil as he traverses the one with thorns. The word may be inscribed to him and leave his lips but they may never enter his heart.

Although, there was a part of him that couldn’t help but envy those of the church. They had a figure to believe in, someone they can rely on in harsh times no matter how futile it may be—while he has no one but himself to lean on. He knows he is nothing but a false prophet, but if this helps bring relief to those who needs it then he has no qualms against playing this act. He may be without faith but he is no monster to deny one of this. Perhaps one day he’ll come to understand why so many come to flock in the church. Why so many blindlessly put their faith into something that they cannot tangible confirm exist. Perhaps one day...

There is no use in thinking of that now, he thinks to himself. If that day were to come then God better send a good envoy to convince him.

And God sure did.

One night, when the sky was at it’s darkest, Father Kuroro Lucilfer went inside the church alone to contemplate. The young priest looked upon the series of pews that normally housed families look so ghastly empty at night. The altar where he preached the word of God was quiet with no interruption. The church itself was empty except for him, and from the outside it looked haunting—and unnerving, but oddly enough Kuroro found comfort in that. Here in the empty house of the Lord, he could truly be honest and drop his act—as ironic as that was.

He kneeled down before the altar with bended knees. Clasping the rosary in his hands with an empty prayer. "My God My God.." he heard his voice echo. "Why have you forsaken? You’ve sent to me your earthly prophets to teach me your ways and yet I cannot find it in my heart to accept them." He looked up to see the stained glass with that shone with what he described as superficial beauty.

"If you so want me to join your ranks." Kuroro licked his lips. "Then show me the weight of your teachings. Prove to me your existence. Lest I follow no master but my own."

Silence reigned over the desolate church and Kuroro sighed and shook his head. Well that was a bummer. He was prepared to be disappointed but actually experiencing it is rather sour.

Before he can stand up however, he felt the air change, like something or someone has entered the premises and he looked around worried. He quickly stood up and searched the area—if someone were to have heard his soliloquy, his reputation may end up in tatters. When he could find none he sighed in relief before turning around towards the altar.

There his eyes widened.

Before him was a being draped in what could only be silk cloths. It looked both man and woman with it’s golden hair and solemn face. The being was alike the cherubs that decorated the church’s interior—especially with the beauty that shone through those sky blue eyes. A halo crowned above it’s head as the moonlight shined through to stained glass to illuminate it’s brilliance.

Kuroro was stunned—was he dreaming? Was this real? Was he truly seeing,, an angel?

"You are not dreaming, that I can assure you." It said, it’s eyes blinking almost coyly, under the moonlight it truly looked light a divine being especially with the way it’s blue eyes seem to glow. Kuroro was in complete awe—he was completely speechless. An angel, a true angel had come down from the heavens to prove God’s existence. Without a word he knelt down beneath the angel and spoke, "May you lead me to my faith." It’s beauty was truly something immeasurable.

The angel only smiled before descending from above the altar. Kuroro gulped as the angel sat at the altar, something one wouldn’t expect of an angel after all an altar is a sacred place, but he said nothing. Instead his thoughts silenced themselves when he saw a peak of the thighs of the angel when the cloth shuffled as it sat. God bless his soul. He whipped his head to stare at the angel’s face, who looked with an angelic yet mystified smile. "If thou have no faith." He gasps as felt warm hands caress his cheeks—this ethereal being!—

"Then put thy faith in me."

With those words Kuroro Lucilfer sealed his fate. His gingerly took the angel’s hands into his own and kissed it. The young priest does not know how much time has passed, but he could careless as he worshipped the being before him with all his being. Kissing it’s hands and by it’s feet as a sign of his reverence. The being before him was as softer than anything he’s ever felt. Warmer than any body he’s ever touched—more than any one he’d ever touched. This was without a doubt the most beautiful being he’s ever experienced, and probably the only thing he’ll experience. Nothing will ever compare again. As wonderful as the moment was, all things come to an end. 

"I must leave." It said with remorse as it carded it’s delicate fingers over Kuroro’s hair. Sadness washed over him as reality as he knew it was about to return to it’s menial he ways "Will I ever see you again?" He desperately prayed he would.

The angel peered down on him softly before sparing him a kiss on his covered forehead, and with that he was disarmed, "soon." It whispered to his ears before disappearing without a trace. Kuroro Lucilfer looked to see the sun was already rising beyond the horizon.

A few days past and the encounter was still fresh on his mind. That angel plagued every corner of his mind with it’s coy smile. It came in the form of dreams—

He dreamt that he lay alone in the garden of eden, with all it’s wondrous creations. Except there was no woman to accompany him—nor a snake to tempt him to evil, instead there was only an angel who served as the forbidden fruit. Immaculate as it sat in his place in the tree of knowledge. He knew, he wholeheartedly knew, that he must never desecrate it, but even without a woman or snake to serve as a temptress, he gave into the sin of disobedience. Without a hint of hesitation, he bit down into it’s skin.

For once he felt confused with his feelings—he who was without faith couldn’t deny the feelings of disgust he felt upon himself as he thought of these things, but an inkling of him gave into pleasure.

He had not informed any of his fellow priests of this—of his holy encounter with an angelic being. Blame him not for wanting to covet such an experience. It was the only evidence he had—the only semblance of a higher being he can use to believe that perhaps there truly is a God above. So fervently he prayed that he would once again meet his angelic being—

And God heard his prayer.

Commotion had suddenly spurned among priests one day. They chattered among themselves with smile that spoke of many things. "That boy! He’s certainly a good one!" "He is truly blessed don’t you think? Perhaps he is a saint in the making." "You may be right, that boy is outstanding." The young priest was intrigued—to think a young boy was able to enamored these priests was certainly a feat. He must be extraordinary...

That he certainly he was,

As he was walking the grounds of the church near the school where he taught boys of Christian living, he was suddenly called upon by one of his fellow priests. "Father Lucilfer!" He whipped his head to see a grinning man grinning ear to ear. "Good day to you too Head Priest Netero." This was the man that had taken him in, and that very same man doubled in laughter. "Aha! You too! There’s someone I’d like you to meet—he’s very similar to you I’m sure you’ll like him." Without delay Head Priest Netero lead the way as Kuroro followed from behind. Netero lead him to one of the gardens which one of the visiting Nuns, Sr. Cheadle, loved to tend to so much. It was a spacious area with many flora but the center point was one Willow tree hidden further into the garden, where a lake was located. That willow tree was the pride and joy of the whole community—having planted it before Kuroro set foot into the church it had grown exponentially and beautifully so. It’s branches separated into three parts and one of those branches was Kuroro’s favorite place to sit and read books.

"Trust me on this." Netero said, "This boy is certainly something else. We’ve decided to accept him into our school as an anonymous sponsor sponsored his schooling—eh! Even if he hadn’t received that sponsorship we’ll surely take him in. You should’ve seen him Father Lucilfer! The boy bravely went into traffic to protect the child of our church goers—Mr. Nostrade if you must know—A car nearly hit her when Kurapika swept in! And just on time, they both managed to get out of harm’s way with barely a scratch, Neon was balling in his arms—now that I think about it that anonymous sponsor might not be so anonymous after all—"

When they were nearing the area of the willow tree, Kuroro caught a glimpse of a sitting boy with golden tresses—it can’t be..

"Ah there he is." Netero grinned before he beckoned "Kurapika! Come here!." When the boy looked at their direction, his breath ceased. The boy looked exactly like the angel in his encounter. He fell out of his surprise when the boy smiled and slowly stood up, Hiding the book in his messenger bag before going to Netero. Upon closer inspection his thoughts were only confirmed. This boy—this boy looked exactly like the angel he had seen. To his golden tresses down to every detail he managed to capture in his brief encounter. The only difference being his eyes, colored silver reminding him of the moon in the sky, and his height. The boy was clearly a teen.

"Kurapika I want you to meet Father Kuroro Lucilfer, Kuroro meet Kurapika."

The boy smiled coyly—the same way the angel smiled at him—before handing his hand. "It’s nice to meet you Father Lucilfer!" The gesture was heart warming, Kuroro returned the smile before saying "Call me Kuroro, Kurapika." The warmth in the boy’s hands was a kin to the Angel’s too.

The boy gave a closed eyed smile before saying "Alright! If that’s okay with you Kuroro." Twinkling bells, a beautiful symphony of them it was.

Perhaps that was the start of it all—his slow descent into something he cannot grasp.

Ever since that day everyone and he meant everyone was becoming attached to the boy named Kurapika. True to words he is truly extraordinary—everyone gravitated to him and his radiant energy. Kurapika had boundless intellect and enjoyed initiating debates among his peers. Even at his age, he maintained this childish quality that brought joy into the room with only a smile. He had a good relationship with all the priests, his fellow students and even the support personels. He did his duties with grace and swiftness and he was simply a treat to be with, it was clear though. Out of all the people he had met during his still brief time,not more than 3 months,his most favorite person to be with was—

"Kuroro!" The boy launched himself at the young priest, trapping him in a hug. "Woah there! Slow down Pika." Kuroro patted the boy’s head as the other gripped on his Black Cassock tightly, but the boy paid no mind and continued to call out "Brother Kuroro! Kuroro—". Despite being a teen,which would have been the rebellious stage of all people, Kurapika was not shy to giving affection.

The boy seemed adamant on spending his free time with Kuroro. Very adamant. "I wanted to spend time with Kurapika today but he told me he wanted to spend time with you Father Lucilfer! Isn’t he adorable?" "After finishing Gardening duty, I was gonna invite him for a study meet, but he immediately bolted off! Obviously he went to Father Lucilfer it’s almost impossible to see them apart." "They’re like brothers aren’t they? It’s too sweet—" and many other sentiments.

To a degree it was true, he and Kurapika somehow developed a brotherly bond during their quick interactions. Kurapika seemed to automatically trust him upon instinct. "I told you he’d like you." The young priest remembers the grin Head priest Netero gave him, as much as it was very flattering—and the fact he really does enjoy being at the company of that boy—There was a sense of disonance in him. Kurapika was truly cut from the same cloth as that angel, and the conflicting feelings he feels disgusts him to no end.

"Brother Kuroro?" He saw Kurapika looking at him questioningly. It was nearing the end of the day when students could retire back to their homes or the campus given dorms but Kurapika insisted on being accompanied while he read.

"What’s wrong Kurapika?" The boy frowned and closed the book he was reading before setting it aside. "You’re thinking deeply again." He took a seat beside the man and eyed him with his silver eyes, "You never call me Kurapika unless it is." The boy was way too observant for his own good. Kuroro sighed before ruffling the boy’s hair, earning him an unamused grunt. "It’s not important." He nonchalantly gave, hoping the boy would put the issue down, and gladly he did. "Fine!" He pouted, shrugging away before grinning mischiveously. The young priest looked at the boy suspisciously, "What are you planning?"

Without warning, Kurapika tackled him in another embrace except this time the boy covered his eyes. "You—" Before he could remove and reprimand the boy, he does something that leaves him stunned.

The boy kissed his forehead the same way the angel had done.

His shock must have been visible on his face—the boy looked absolutely amused. He no longer sounded like the young boy he’d come to know.

"Tell me, do you remember now?"

Kuroro gulped but answered him "I do." The boy—The angel, eyed him with a stern glint in his eyes. The colors of the sunset bathe him this time, reflecting a faux halo for him in his disguise. Then he suddenly smiled. "Good." The childish lilt in his voice returned and Kurapika resumed to hugging him as though nothing had happened. "You shouldn’t forget." He murmured to his cassock.

This perhaps was the moment Kuroro Lucilfer realized that something was off with the Angel. Perhaps this was no divine being, but an infernal angel. Had he been fooled by a a Hellish being? Again, perhaps—but his curiosity to know, to learn, to understand is peaked. He has put his faith into this ‘Angel’ of his, and he finds himself willing to pay it’s price.


	2. Lust of the eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who will be your God?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My writing style dropped to a devastatingly low point huhu, I'm not satisfied by it. No doubt its definitely lacking.

“Thy word is a lamp unto my feet, and a light unto my path.” Psalm 119:105

There is a perfectly good reason as to why God must never be a tangible being.

Things have taken a strange turn ever since Kurapika—his angel came into his life. The church life and the community in general has and always will be a lively bunch, but ever since he joined—it is clear that the people were enamored by him. They all flocked to him like sheep—talked about him, singing praises of his deep-rooted faith to God, his ardent compassionate that flowed like rivers from his hands. He is heard of a few parishioners feeling as the Lord has come down in the flesh—blessing them with Kurapika as proxy. Well, it was not surprising. Unbeknownst to everyone but himself, Kurapika is an angel—his angel.

Kuroro Lucilfer is not appalled by these advancements, no far from it, but he can’t admit that the thing that’s been disturbing him—is himself. You see, Kurapika’s appearance has boosted the moral of the church and his peers, but there was a shameful part of him that wished to covet the boy for himself. He felt this, burgeoning jealousy of his threatened to spill whenever he his honeyed descriptions of his angel. He hears the walls echo words of Kurapika’s inherent grace, how the plant seems to bloom under his fingertips alone or how eyes seem to follow his every move. His personality is like that of the sweetest flower they said, simply engrossing paired with his voice that sung of the heavenly highs. 

Like him, they too never tire from speaking of his beauty. He has heard of spoken and written poetry of the boy from some of his peers—some who no doubt had some childish crush on the boy. The boy in gold whose face was craved by the God, no doubt loved by him too, or His smile is akin to the thousand of twinkling lights in the sky—simply captivating, but Kuroro already knew this. He knew better than anyone. Would you blame him for wanting to selfishly keep the boy for himself? Perhaps, but knowing that unlike him they would never experience the true extent of his unearthly brilliance gave him uncalled for euphoria for this will be the only thing he can hold for himself.

He cannot deny that he has some problems, he has realized this too. There was this, growing desire in him as you know. He already knew he had this perverted view of the angel if his dreams were any indication, so he has been trying to reel in and effectively swallow that infuriatingly tempting desire. However, that proved to be very troublesome, more so since it is Kurapika. The same boy whose smile sent people to their knees—the one who shared to him his warm embrace that would only lead him back to that night.

It was one of the rare days where he was not the one to preside the mass, instead it was led by another priest. So instead he sat by the sidelines, smiling at some of the parishioners looking his way—they had these odd looks of disappointment on their faces. He was glad for his placement, for it gave him a hidden view of where Kurapika stood. The boy had taken it up to himself to join the choir. He was one of the rarer ones as most of the boys opted to be knights of the church, acolytes, but one day he said, “I wish to sing my praises directly to God.” With a riveting smile that could bring one to his knees. He swore, the power of this angel—as he sung with precision and grace everyone in the vicinity was taken in by him. His voice alone could put the voices of trained singers to shame—even Sr. Senritsu said so—for it was simply enchanting. His honeyed voice mimicked the feeling of a soft embrace—one that sent pleasant shivers up the spines of those who hear him. Kurapika was no doubt one of the biggest reasons as to why many have decided to frequently attend the church more and he understood why. During the duration of the mass, The young priest felt this soft feeling budding in his chest, like warm caress from a lover, he looked for the source and saw the boy looking at him intently as he sung. Seeing as he has gained his attention, the angel in disguised flashed him a smile—a smile which made his heart stutter in its place. Many also swooned at its sight but only he would know that he is the intended receiver. He smiles back, putting all his attention unto him—to the point he barely registered the words of his fellow priest. He said,

"Which of you men, if you had one hundred sheep, and lost one of them, wouldn't leave the ninety-nine in the wilderness, and go after the one that was lost, until he found it? When he has found it, he carries it on his shoulders, rejoicing. When he comes home, he calls together his friends, his family and his neighbors, saying to them, 'Rejoice with me, for I have found my sheep which was lost!' I tell you that even so there will be more joy in heaven over one sinner who repents, than over ninety-nine righteous people who need no repentance."

Ahh, Luke 15:3-7, a familiar parable Kuroro notes. A parable recounting a story of a Shepherd who looks for his lost sheep. After recalling the parable in detail—he contemplates, a habit he has developed after all these years. If he were to connect the parable to his current situation, then he be the lost sheep. A black sheep lacking in faith—a clear difference between his white coated purely devoted brothers and sisters. If that were the case, then Kurapika must be his shepherd, for he has promised him that he will be the one to lead him to understanding fate. However, he has some concerns. Though the days have treated him well and there is lighter atmosphere for everyone—an unfamiliar seed has taken root in his heart.

Again, He is Kuroro Lucilfer, A false prophet of God—a man of no fate. Before he has never bothered or cared for any of the matter whenever he had sinned. The church only benefitted him for his survival after all. He should not be bothered by these emotions, after all he does not believe, but ever since the appearance of a certain angelic being—he cannot help but wish to turn things around, after all he would not want to disappoint him. For once in his life, he genuinely wants something. He wants to be worthy of him. So again, even as he wishes to have a taste for himself the wonders of flesh, He will swallow his own desires—for now. 

The fact that despite being the shepherd, Kurapika seems to be guiding him unto a whole different path, one that will lead him astray more than he already is—is not hidden to him.

Later that day, the young priest finds himself spending time in the willow tree—attempting to clear his thoughts. They are after all, invasive. These fantasies of his will be his undoing, but his imagination ran wild at the image of blonde locks and strikingly beautiful eyes. He has never experienced the pleasures of flesh but—"Kuroro! Brother Kuroro?" his train of thoughts came to abrupt end when he was suddenly visited by his favorite being. “What are you doing Brother Kuroro?” The blonde boy asked, taking the liberty to sit beside him as he always did. He hummed and simply answered, “Meditating.”. “I can see why, you’ve been thinking a lot of things recently.” Kurapika glanced at his form before staring into his eyes. Kuroro unconsciously scoffed, of course he would know, “You sung beautifully today, it was lovely.” Despite changing the subject, the boy responded in kind—“..You think so?”. The blooming red apples on his cheeks paired with the sheepish expression on the boy’s face sent pleasant ripples into the depths of his soul. Chuckling, Kuroro patted his head “I know so, No one would be able to compare.” The boy stilled before taking his hand to his own and bringing it to his lips. The feeling of plush soft lips on his knuckles made Kuroro re-evaluates his current existence. “So you say…” half lidded eyes told Kuroro this was no longer Kurapika, "if you want, I could sing for you.". Then sing only for me he thought, how beautiful must it be, for him to be the one to undo him but ah—"Really? then sing for me." His smirk was merely a mask for the thoughts that run amok in his mind. "I will, but one more thing." he leaned in and whispered ever so softly in his ears, "Close your eyes Kuroro." The lilt in the tone of his voice was addicting—the way he said his name was addicting! This is dangerous, he— Kuroro hummed and closed his eyes obediently, "They are closed." raising and flexing his fingers in front of his face. A twinkling sound came near his ear, "Hmm, then..." He feels nimble hands wrap around his body, ahh his signature embrace. "Stay still." The cold air around the willow tree suddenly softened, in it's place was a comfortably heat—not that different from a summer's day. The words that left his mouth was completely unknown—foreign to him. It was a language he had never heard before, it was soft with a hard edge. The combination of the soft voice that whispered an personal hymn paired with the feelings he's generated was truly a melodious one. This was the true heavenly choir of God. They must have stayed there for a long time for when Kuroro opened his eyes again, the sun nearly setting, but the whole affair felt like an ephemeral moment—a lovely moment that happened too briefly. "We should go back, your curfew is—" "Tonight." Kuroro stilled, the implication was deafening to his already full mind. "…You know what to do.” 

Conversations between the two of them have always been vague. There was always a key component missing to decipher the hidden messages they sent to each-others way. However, they have grown quite adept at this form of almost nonsensical way of communication.  


Later that night, Kuroro Lucilfer visited the church at the dead of night like he did before—it was the same situation as it was back then however this time the church walls weren't as lonesome. The votives—vigil candles lit up at the sides, leading him down to the altar where the angel laid along with the drapes that clothes his holy and lithe physique. "You came." again upon the altar sat his angel as beautiful if not more than the day he first saw him. His eyes were back to it's familiar blue hues that shone with luminesce in the darkness. Once again he feels his breath stolen from him—the feeling of awe substituting them "...did you not ask me to come?" "I suppose I did." A small smile bloomed on his tempting lips "I am just glad you did as I wished." 

Well who wouldn't? thought the young priest—Kurapika er, his angel was simply a being who makes you wish to be worthy of him. Kuroro wants to be worthy of him. No matter how futile the attempt may be. As the angel beckoned him closer he complied without a word and kneeled down to his knees. The drapes that adorned the angel's body seemingly excessive in his opinion, his skin much prettier up close—like porcelain. His thoughts however came to a crashing halt when he came face to face with the angel, his eyes zeroing to his lovely lips. "Tell me, what has been troubling you? you should not let it fester within yourself." his concern thawed the stinging cold in his chest. Truthfully he has a lot on his mind, the biggest one being his steadily growing need to have the angel as his own, to be his and his alone, to be the only person who can hold him close and keep him close—but really, he should probably keep this to himself for now, and without delay Kuroro confessed a half truth. 

"I am afraid to say, that despite your intercession to birth in me my faith in God—" Kuroro pauses in his response. Kurapika, in all his angelic glory, waited for his plead. "I do not believe I am any closer to him." a melodious hum reached his ears, "Is that so?" He watched with complete reverence as the angel settled back unto the altar. "Am I not enough?" "Pardon?" his eyes darted to the angel's face. Brows slightly furrowed with eyes baring a tinge of sadness. Panic quickly took action "Heavens no! God knows you are more than enough—" a brief look of vulnerability flitted through Kurapika's face before disappearing into it's neutral disposition. "It's my fault, my soul is not strong enough." Kuroro bowed his head. 

"Perhaps we will need to try another way." His hands carded through Kuroro's black locks before settling on his face, tilting it up. "Another way?" Kurapika's eyes stared straight into is soul. He shuddered, he felt bare and vulnerable before him—but at the same time, the feeling was so enticing. Fingertips gracing it's touches to his biceps "If there really is no other way—" a soft brief touch to his chest above his heart "—to provoke your faith to God, Then let me propose another."

Velvety lips press against the ominous cross, washing away its signature—temporarily clearing his mind.

"Then, let me be your God."

Suddenly, alarm bells rang inside his head. What the angel said—what Kurapika said was utterly blasphemous. Choosing another to worship other than God himself was Idolatry, a grave sin—Your God is your master, God is supposed to be his master but he is not bound to him. There is nothing to bind him to God but Kurapika himself, and now here is saying to become his God—his master, it did not make sense at all. With his knees on the ground his eyes darted all over the place as he tried to make sense of what could not be made into sense, and Kurapika let him. First, he saw the cross hang above their head watching—waiting for his response. God, wherever he may be if he is real, is watching as he slips into a difficult decision. Second, Kurapika who also waited for his answer. His eyes subtly trail over the drapes that decorated his pale shoulders. The angel already looked like a God to him, would making him one in his eyes be any different?

Under the watchful eye of the cross, he gives into the tempting offer—like before he gave him his answer with a kiss. A kiss which he marked upon Kurapika's palm. The smile on Kurapika's face was bright with genuine relief. "Follow me and I promise you, I will never let you stray, can you do that for me?" "Of course." "Good." With a bewitching smile, the angel leant in and promised him one thing. "Do it well and I will fulfill your wish." The memories of that night were a blur. He cannot say with full certainty that he knows all the details but that was the general gist of it. The young priest has put his faith into an Angel who he now worships like a God. He wonders as he watches Kurapika laugh with his fellow classmate, laughter which rings in his ears like sweet murmurs of the river, is this worth it? Did he make the right call? All of this started with his essentially taunting God to prove himself and he did through the Angel, but how is it that Kurapika manages to be a contradiction? An Angel who uses the altar as a throne, an angel who smiles coyly, an angel who has enabled him to stay the way he is—an angel who suggested he make him his God. Was Kurapika truly an angel as he looks to be? or is that but a lie? Questions, he had too many Questions, but his growing desire is too powerful to ignore. So do not blame as he falls further into his embrace, for once in his life he has someone to believe in—someone tangible and not a mere concept he gambles his trust in. Even though he has his doubts, he wants to follow Kurapika. He truly wants to and so he will. The black sheep is found and guided by brilliant Shepard who leads him back to the right path. The sheep, despite noticing the unfamiliar roads, strange signs and the darkening skies above—still continue to follow the Shepard as he traverses through new territory, for he believed that with him he will see the light. However, he is unaware of the darkening coat of his already blackened wool or perhaps he does but chooses to ignore that too, after all—would would a Shepard lead him astray?

Still, Black eyes follow the delicate lines of the body hidden beneath a properly tucked uniform. Feeling his gaze, this time Kurapika is the one to turn around—but he is still the one to leave him shaking with his playful smile.

God give me patience and not strength or I might tear that off—

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kuroro knowing it's wrong but does it any way because it's Kurapika. skl, I feel like I really wasn't able to bring my point into this jsdhg. Dang, I wish I had someone to check but no one in my circle ships krkr.


	3. Lust of the body

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And here we have Kuroro Lucilfer unable to keep it in his pants.
> 
> For Christmas and New years, the sound track shall be Jingle Balls and Silent night, Holy night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Amen

"Delight yourself in the LORD; And He will give you the desires of your heart." Psalm 37:4

  
Labored breaths and the debauched moans reached his ears. Whimpered whispers of sweet nothings laced with the promise of release. The moonlight that filtered through sheer curtains accentuated the bewitching body beneath as he worshipped it with reverence worthy of it's bearer. Pleasure filled his veins unabated as the feeling of warm flesh encasing his own overwhelmed and shook his soul. Familiar blue eyes tinged with equally familiar silvery grace stared up at him with ferocity so delectable it sent a pleasant shiver. Golden tresses forming a halo where he lay mimicking the one that stood atop his crown. He venerated soft alabaster skin with his own marks; As beautiful as it was, the temptation to ruin him was too severe. Without hesitation he painted color scarlet upon the skin—red suits him.

  
Familiar hands traced his face with burning warmth. The heat, an addicting sedative, made him complacent to the judgement of the Angel before him. Kuroro Lucilfer was convinced that the gateway to heaven lay not after death, but in the way the other's body would arch with each succession. Red bitten lips flashed it's signature smile before leaning in and—

  
Like a fleeting dream, he woke up with a very prominent problem on his lap.

  
Father Kuroro Lucilfer sighed with a heavy slump of his body to the headboard, hearing it thump under his weight. Experiences like these were becoming more common with each passing day seemingly connecting like episodes in a season. They always end up the same—That vixen of an angel whose tongue mimicked that of a devil’s would lure him to bed. Hands slowly guiding him into place, settling together like puzzle pieces. Before long they would be a mess of tangled limbs—lips that left red marks of possession along with scratches bearing blood. Painful yet delectably pleasurable—addicting. However, he would always without fail wake up before the crucial moment. 

  
The young priest lets out a noise akin to a whine of disappointment. He tore off the sheets to reveal the biggest problem he was currently facing. Standing Erect, flushing red and leaking precome, he stared with an expression of disbelief. Despite the looming dreams of lust he has been experiencing, he can’t say he has ever attempted to touch his own flesh before. For weeks he has been admittedly sentencing himself to blue balls out of shame—shame that he dare defile his angel to this extent even to his dreams.

  
The fact he’s actually considering breaching that experience now is a clear statement to the state of his dwindling patience. His left hand cards through his black locks as his right settles comfortably on his dick. Soon, invasive but welcomed thoughts like the smooth curve of Kurapika’s shoulders, to the soft arch of his back, to the swell of his bottoms fluttered in his mind. As if testing the waters, his fingers tease the head and length of his dick with light touches. In the way he imagined his angel would do.

  
His hand soon starts to move in tandem with his thoughts as images of wet bitten lips and silvery blue eyes fluttering close in pleasure send a tingling warmth to the bottom of his stomach. Head slowly echoing with the moans and sweet nothings his dreams had conjured. 

  
His lips murmured a name, Kurapika, like a prayer. A hymn to offer to his God as well as a remedy to his ever growing problem. He longed to sing praises of his angel, better yet he longed to make his body sing in the way the angel does to just the mere thought of him. His pace grew faster as his voice continued to stutter out his name. The images in his head continue to grow in intensity, slowly but surely the vivid images of Kurapika drowning in the depravity of lust became all too real as if he could reach out and feel it for himself.

  
A flick or two finally sent him to climax as the Kurapika in his head moaned his name with that playful lilt of his. Muscles flexing under the weight of uncharted pleasure as it racks through his body before bursting. Eyes closed, breath heaving as he lay there, boneless with cum stained sheets in hands.

  
Kuroro hisses at the sight of his undoing, the experience both felt like it lasted too long and too quick. The height of his pleasure was both satisfying and not. The journey to achieving that delectable end served with the assistance of the thoughts of Kurapika loitering in his head. It left him wanting more—he could feel this steadily growing addiction of his to chase that pleasure and see it to the end. He could only dream of tasting the wonders of Kurapika for himself. 

  
The young priest can only sigh for the umpteenth time as he wipes away the stain of his sin; the evidence of him giving into his vices. Although if giving in meant taking part in that euphoric high once again—he might just do it. He thinks this as the reflection of his disheveled form stares back at him; as though it judged him with it’s critical eye. The cross in his forehead framed by his hair.

  
Hours later, he still couldn’t get the experience out of his head. No, the thoughts consisting of his unholy perversion only seemed to continue mocking him as the subject of his affection, and lust, hovered close to him.

  
It was the first friday of the month, and given their community’s tradition—A mass was underway. A mass which he spearheaded. On the outside, it was as if there was nothing wrong; the people could only see the handsome young priest by the name of Kuroro Lucilfer as he continued spreading the word of God to all that would listen—and that is good! 

  
That’s exactly how he wanted to be seen because in truth—it was the farthest from the truth it could get. In reality, he had some difficulties keeping up with the facade of cool aloofness with a smile here and there—why? Because all he could see was a hint of a memory of his angel sitting prettily upon the altar as he worshipped him with reverence worthy of him. By God was it hard to focus when all he could confidently think of was the pure sensuality of every encounter that had taken place there in the eyes of the Cross.

  
Not to mention the little desire of his to unravel his angel here, inside the church, in front of the altar where it all started. How beautiful he would look spread out with the low light of vigil candles illuminating his arching form. The sounds of their skin and every gasp that would echo like their very own harmony of lust, reminding them of the sin they made together.

  
Maybe this was his plan all along, to make sure he lingers in his mind like a parasite; so he could feed off of his thoughts constantly. He sighs inward, finding that he might not mind that as much. The mass itself went without any problems, though the choir had some problems with their harmony due to the fact one of their pillar singers decided to be a knight of the altar for that day. Kurapika managed to look elegant in both roles, though he’d argue being an altar boy was more dangerous.

  
After all, it was like a little game of sneak peek. Kuroro would do his best to casually let his eyes over his form without being caught. The closest description of his behaviour would probably be the way children would act after their crushes. It was embarrassing yes, but a part of him found it rather exciting. 

  
To be frank, a part of him feels strange about this development. All it took was one being to completely unearth the ways he abided by since he was young. One being, to flip his world upside down. There was a budding sense of vulnerability that the younger him would without a doubt detest, but with the way things are maybe that’s alright.

  
As soon as the mass ended, The feeling of his skin briefly brushing against his sent a shiver to his nerves. “Are you okay Kuroro..?” The other whispered subtly, silver eyes looking with concern. Despite the permeating noise of the other students, Kurapika’s voice seems to tower over them in power. Thoughts of his dreams last night quickly flooded his system as he attempted to lay them away from his head. “I’m fine.” Although the strained quality of his voice put the validity of his claims to question. 

  
“Will you be available later? I have some questions regarding our recent topic.” Blonde hair fell to frame his tilted face. Amused Kuroro flashed him a teasing grin. “Seems rather ironic for someone like you to be troubled by things like religion, little angel.” After all, the boy is an angel himself; that would have been a rather strange thing. The shift in Kurapika’s eyes however, told another tale. “You see father, I was thinking of having a discussion towards our current topic of greed.” the signature playful smile he sent his way. “Seems interesting, don’t you?”

  
Honestly at that moment, Kuroro felt like a prey faced against a predator—Kurapika looked at him like a feline ready to pounce with his tail swishing in delight. The young priest coughed under the watchful eye of his little scholar. “Maybe after your classes,” he said, ushering him away. The boy had a little skip to his step as he moved further away. “Let’s meet at the willow this time. For a change of pace.”

  
The young priest and the strange angel sat underneath the cool bark of the willow tree. Watching silently as the leaves tremble with the night breeze. Kuroro notes the oddity of today’s meet. Usually the little angel preferred to have his way in the church, in his natural form. Now he sat under a willow bearing only his angelic eyes over his human guise. Kurapika had this far off look in his eyes, staring deep into the slowly darkening scene. Kuroro quickly wondered if they would be caught at this hour. 

  
“They say greed is a sin.” “That’s because it is.” Kurapika pursed his lips. “You humans have a knack for doing things you shouldn’t be, but I can’t say I agree.” “Why so? Care to elaborate?” Kuroro twisted his body to face him. Kurapika remained transfixed. “Human desires are built on wishes and needs—I cannot see why they must be punished for them.” 

  
“Perhaps so but human desires manifest in greed, and greed is harmful to the whole.”

  
Seconds, maybe a minute or two passes by before Kurapika turns to face him. There’s a twinkle in the way his eyes shift between it’s angelic and human parts. The depth in those eyes tell him of a story he’s yet to uncover. “That too depends, don't you think? Some desires don’t deserve to be condemned. So tell me.” Lips twist into a smile, and the quick realization that he is an omniscient being hits all too late.

  
“What desire has been keeping you up so late at night?”

  
The stutter in his soul and the cold wash of being caught collides in a mess, leaving him only with his shame. “I have no such thing—” Ah, human nature, the first human instinct is always to _lie_. “Oh really? I doubt that.”

“Don’t be afraid.” He hisses at the sudden touch to his thigh that slowly crept to a higher plane. “The moment you allowed me to be your God I promised to myself I would answer all your pleas.” His hand was small compared to his. Cold yet tingling with heat under the face of his skin with it’s gentle touches. His other palm pressing against something forbidden, one that to ache for his touch. “Don’t pretend as if I don’t hear the way you call for me at night.”

  
“I can do all of that you wish for, all of the fantasies you have in your mind. All you have to do is to _give in_.”

Suddenly, the immorality of it seems much clearer. Something about this isn’t right. The past few months haven’t been right. Kurapika, his angel, isn’t right—isn’t who he seems to be. Before he knew it his coat was the darkest shade of black it has ever been and his shepherd has never been a shepherd. 

  
“What good is it for a man to gain the world, but forfeit his own soul?”

  
A moment of silence passed by them, and Kuroro swore—he swore there was something about the look in his eye that seemed off, but that look came as quickly as it vanished. Replaced with an amused chuckle and soft caresses. “Everything you should have had and everything you deserve.”

  
At that moment he thought, what was the point in acting like he cared about morals anymore? Not like he had one in the first place. So what if he falls into the hands of what is deemed evil? Will he really be losing when he has the world in his lap? Looking at him needy with hands feeding into his greed, how can he resist? 

  
So in the end, he bit into the forbidden fruit and let his angel have his way with him under the cool willow. The breeze helped combat the seething heat that scorched his soul, one that slowly brought him to an ever growing familiarity with pleasure. He could do nothing but accept the continuous nips at his neck and shoulder that serve to make him come undone. The thought of being caught in the act only heightened his pleasure as it grew increasingly hard to hide the sound of his groans. By the time Kurapika was done with him, he would be boneless

  
And that he was. A part of him wanted to return the favor but small hands cupped his own before raising it to their own lips. “Not now.” “But—” A finger silenced the young priest. Kurapika grinned, mimicking the way he teased him earlier that day. “Didn’t you want to _ruin me_ in front of the altar?” 

Well, they say God knows best.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Amen Idk how to write scenes like that, it took me several days so it's inconsistent as hell. In the end I fell out of love with it kinda. SO! I will be orphaning this work once I get too embarrassed by it which is likely. Skl (Btw) The reason why Kuroro suddenly jingled his willy is because my friend accused me of being a prude so she challenge me to tackle my two problems, Communication and Shyness to anything relating to—smut.
> 
> Well I definitely did not tackle the Communication issue that is for sure.


	4. Lucifer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no time to edit. High chance this doesn't make sense. Might give this up for awhile or re-write depends.

"If God Is All You Have, You Have All You Need" John 14:8

  
Kuroro Lucilfer walked the halls with silent steps. The smell of petrichor permeated the air. The sky, a strange white haze. There was nothing to do really—the recent bouts of typhoons called about a temporary vacation for the community and students alike. Most students went home to stay with their families Whilst sponsored students like Kurapika, stayed in their dormitories.

  
So, with the fleeting moment of silence, he pondered. Letting his feet drag a long to a destination he has no idea of just yet.

  
Days, weeks, months passed since he first met his little angel. So far, nothing has really changed in the world. The same mildly amusing world he knew, just how he liked it.To himself? Nothing really; his hair has grown somewhat longer, enough to cover the backs of his nape, so he had Kurapika cut it for him. What was initially a solo endeavor that turned into a mess.

  
The comfort room stunk with the smell of fresh chemicals. The mirror reflected his furrowed brow as well as the fidgeting of his knee. “Stay still.” The boy commanded lacking heat. Cutting away hairs the hairs that stuck out. As it turns out, he had no skill to cut his own hair efficiently. Kurapika, ever the life saver, has decent control over it.

  
Now they framed his cross like black curtains.

  
“You really like my birthmark don’t you?” He had teased one time. At that moment, he thought the boy would react with teases of his own but he only gave a longing smile as he thumbed the cross. Admitting with a low “I do.” .

  
Were there any changes with Kurapika? Maybe so but, Their small community is still enamored by him and his grace. Talks about his every doing still echoed the halls like gossip in street markets. Nevertheless, perhaps there were changes—between them that is.

  
There were little observations like the faraway look he’d sometimes let out. How there were times when he seemed as though he wanted to say more, but held himself back. A small noticeable halt in his footsteps whenever he decided to be more affectionate. There was something more to him than in the way he tended to show himself as. Such as the time instead of teasing back as how he usually would have, he chided him instead, and after realizing he had—he froze. 

  
Or the time he first took him apart. Given him his soul as did he. It was just like how he fantasized it in his head. He was a beautiful, intoxicating and religious experience. As beautiful as it was, He didn’t miss the moment he saw Kurapika cry. Pooling like wet streams down his face. He could tell it wasn’t out of pleasure, but it wasn’t out of pain either. He had asked if there was anything wrong but Kurapika denied him of an answer, deciding to pursue drowning in pleasure instead.

  
He was wholly unaware of his eyes looking much different than they were before. 

  
He’d seen them in the color blue, akin to the morning sky as the clouds opened up to reveal their expanse. Seen them in misty silver like the gentle fog in the night sky. This however couldn’t compare. There was a new hue emerging within its depths. A hint of ruby red around the circles of his iris, one that threatened to burn away as he reached the height of pleasure. It was no sky—but a radiant gem, scattering it’s colors within its light. 

  
He stored that moment in his heart like a fond memory knowing that, at that moment, he might’ve seen a part of the ‘true’ Kurapika.

  
With that said things went on as if nothing truly happened. Times were much slower. Nothing big or anything to take note off at least. Perhaps because of that, he was given more time to appreciate and realize a few things regarding his ever growing vices. 

There was something ironic about being taught—enabled into misdeeds by an Angel sent from heaven so, this time with rationale, he questioned if he truly was as he says he is. He had seen him, draped with cloth like an artwork made to be revered and admired. He had seen with him a Halo over his head, looking like a king with a majestic crown of his own design. 

  
But never had he seen him with his wings. Of course, there were possibilities that divine beings had no need for wings. After all, the concept of winged beings was a subject of human concepts, ones he hypothesized himself a while before, days before he met his Angel. The chance of him having wings however was not zero. He had felt hints of it when he had his hands trail over his spine. Still, curiosity nicked at him. Tugging endlessly to be sated and quelled. The good in him knew all he needed to know and know all he needed to hear. There was no need to know of such things.

  
Kurapika, however, taught him how to be selfish.

  
So the feeling of wanting to know—of needing to know in the pursuit of knowledge—only grew as the relationship of their dynamics changed. Outside they looked like a close pair of a doting teacher and eager student. “You’ve certainly been close to the young Kurapika haven’t you?” The head priest Netero comments. Again, he wasn’t wrong—”attached by the hip!”—but he was ignorant to the facts. Call it a switch or vice versa but Kuroro is the eager student who makes a subject out of his teacher more than the lessons themselves.

  
Perhaps he should be glad for his faithless self. If it weren’t for his blasphemous impertinence that day—taunting God and all his and such—he most likely wouldn’t have met the little angel.

  
Though, in all honesty, at first he merely coveted him. Both as an Angel and as a Boy. Coveted him for his enchanting beauty and his status as a celestial being. Greed, they had talked about that before Surely he must have known and clearly, Kurapika was fine with being sought after. Maybe even relishing in the thrill of it. 

  
The thought of a time where he, like a feral dog with spit-slicked mouth, only craved for wanting, needing him, in that superficial way—brings him nothing but disgust towards himself.

  
He deserved much more than just being wanted for his beauty. Kurapika simply deserved so much more. 

* * *

  
The sound of fluttering pages reached his ears first before he realized where he ended upon. The library, one of his go to, was usually locked. That was not the case, judging by the unlocked door. He entered the room to see it bare. Nevertheless, the sound was still there. So he briskly went to one of the more secluded places. There he saw Kurapika with his long blonde hair tied into a neat ponytail, his bangs framing his face to showcase his silver eyes. Thumbing the pages of a book in an almost bored manner. The young priest leaned on one of the book cases, knocking on the dark wood. “Bored?” 

  
Kurapika eyes him in the corner of his eyes before setting it back to the page. Making a noise of agreement as his answer. “How did you break in?” “Do you really think a locked door could stop me from entering?”. Kuroro hmped. “Touché.” 

  
The chair squeaked as he dragged it out to sit. His eyes finally recognize the book Kurapika held—”That isn’t part of the collection.” Kuroro stated as fact, because the book the boy had would never make it pass the censorship of the community, moreso the church. God forbid they would have their necks if they smuggled that in. “That’s because it isn’t.” The boy taps on the spine of the book. A hardbound copy of Paradise lost. Out of sheer curiosity, Kuroro asks for the book. The book is somewhat heavy in his hands with the old page smell still as pleasant. 

  
“I see, you manifested it?” “Of course not.” Kurapika snorted. The action made him pause before clearing his throat. “I simply ‘borrowed’ it from a friend.” The red of his cheeks hid not his embarrassment. He chuckled, giving him a wry smile “That is called smuggling my dear.” 

  
“...So, what are your thoughts?” he questioned, gesturing towards the book. The boy settled the book on the table. He leaned back, stretched akin to a cat and exhaled a breath. “It’s interesting how people like to portray your namesake, Lucifer.” Kurapika started. “Some envision him as a hideous monster, so that tempting mortals to sin would be a difficult one. Yet, in this version, He is detailed quite favorably. To make it make feasible sense why some fall.”

  
“He isn’t like that.”

  
“Oh?” The young priest perked up with unbridled curiosity. The look in the boy’s eyes burned a low acid in his body—The look of Nostalgia seemingly a bit too affectionate. “Then do tell, what is Lucifer like?” He watched the boy take a breathe out, flexing his joints, settling into a more comfortable pose as his eyes stared at the ceiling. “Lucifer was… as his name suggests, a light bringer. The son of the morning star. He was simply radiant. Ironic since his hair was dark, his eyes were dark, dark as the night sky.” Kurapika mumbled, eying him in the corner of his eye, “Much like yours.” he commented. 

  
“I wouldn’t say he’s as handsome, not how the book romanticizes him at least. He does however have a good nose structure. His skin was beautifully pale. His eyes were—`` ''Sounds to me like you had a crush on him.” Kuroro observed the other’s face carefully as he said those words, no matter how much they annoyed him. The small tint of red in his ears did not escape him as the boy schooled his expression. “...as I was saying, his most redeeming quality was his never ending thirst for knowledge. He was...the most curious out of all of us. That same curiosity damned a few others. His Charisma did not help that fact.”

  
With furrowed brows, Kurapika pursed his lips into a miniscule scowl. “As the story goes, that very curiosity became his downfall. He became an example orchestrated by God to—.”

  
“To What? isn’t God supposed to be all merciful?” Kuroro leaned forward. “The way I see it. You’re setting him up to be a cunning God—” “So what if I am?” The boy’s brow furrowed. The accusation set him off. “So what if the God whose words were ingrained into your tongue was not a compassionate God? He’s no longer your God isn’t he? Why are you defending him?” The young priest paused, seemingly stunned. “...Nothing. I get the feeling you resent him. Rather odd for an angel like you.” 

  
A quick but seemingly long pause settled over their heads until Kurapika took a breath and sighed. “The truth is there is no truth. Such as with principles. Lucifer will always carry the burden of being the symbol of evil. God has many faces but people will of course choose his best face, one where he is a true benevolent God.” 

* * *

  
Kuroro walked out of the classroom, having been left by Kurapika to ponder. To be completely honest, nothing really registered in his brain. Almost as though today had been a complete dream and only on this moment had he received some clarity. The thoughts in his mind rang loud. He hyper fixated on the sounds of his footfalls to evade the question his mind imposed. The question of Kurapika’s identity. He spoke of the God he originated from with a forked tongue. He looks at him with hidden ire in his eyes that he wonders the reason for it, perhaps that has been answered with their conversation prior. 

  
Again he wanders aimlessly with his thoughts bouncing on possibilities and impossibilities. Conflicted on whether or not to let it be or question it. In the end, he had been the one to ask if someone could teach him faith. Kurapika did that, but he taught him to have faith only to him. So now, should he ignore what’s always been on the back of his mind and relish in the pleasures offered to him or do what is right? Is there a compromise? The young priest sighs as he takes his hands through his hair. Thinking of the last Kurapika had said to him.

  
_“You should’ve known the moment I came to you that God is not Merciful.”_

**Author's Note:**

> Well this is awkward,


End file.
